


Blackbird

by Hovercraft79



Series: B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate's Summer Playlist [1]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, also sort of a pre-relationship Hackle, discussion of dementia, part of the Hecate's Summer Playlist universe, sorry about the barfing --but it is set in a school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 18:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15646473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hovercraft79/pseuds/Hovercraft79
Summary: Ada Cackle spots a young witch at a job fair with the odds stacked against her. Moved by her plight, Ada makes a place for Hecate at Cackle’s and helps her navigate the uncharted waters of teaching. Along the way they form the foundations of a life-changing relationship.The pre-canon story of how Ada and Hecate met, how Hecate came to be at Cackle’s, and what Gwen Bat was talking about when she said “everything Ada’s done for you.”





	Blackbird

**Author's Note:**

> I love the relationship between Ada and Hecate. It’s honest and healthy and enduring. It can so easily be read as Deep Foundational Friendship or One True Love and I think both are fantastic.
> 
> This story is a very early prequel in the Hecate's Summer Playlist universe but is all about Hecate and Ada. You don't have to have read the series to read this. I started writing the HSP series through the Hackle Summer Trope Challenge but that wound up being Hicsqueak. Since I never would have started writing without cosmic-llin's challenge, I wanted to write something that I could contribute to that. This is that story.
> 
> I created a new series to put this in - basically, B-Sides is just a place to put all the prequels and one-shots I plan to write in this universe in one place. It isn't a true series.
> 
> The title for this fic is from the Beatle’s song, Blackbird. The lyrics really seemed to fit.
> 
> There’s a brief quote from the novel A Killing Cure by Ellen Hart. It came out the year this story is set–1993.
> 
> As always, much thanks to Sparky for editing this story – just when she thought she was done. Any mistakes are no doubt in the bits I added after she'd proofed it.

**The Job Fair**

The concession area buzzed with job-seeking hopefuls, and Ada worried she wouldn’t find a place to sit. Exhausted, she only wanted a few minutes off her feet. To drink a cup of tea, perhaps? Or have a biscuit or two? She glanced at the ornate clock on the wall of Weirdsister College’s Commons Area. The break would only last another fifteen minutes and then, well, back into the fray.

She looked around the room where a few dozen tables were crowded with young witches and wizards, fresh from the various teaching schools. They had all arrived for the annual Witches’ Academy Network job fair. Even though they weren’t so much younger than Ada’s thirty-seven years, she felt a lifetime older. Unbidden, the maths marched through her brain. Who was she kidding? She was a lifetime older than these…youngsters.

Anxious, determined faces reviewed resumés and portfolios while drinking coffees and teas. There didn’t seem to be any available tables. Sighing, she scanned the tables again. If she wanted to get off her feet, she’d have to share with one of the hopefuls – which meant she’d have to endure what would amount to an impromptu interview. As much as having her life planned out for her had chafed, Ada had to admit that she did not regret missing out on the trials of job hunting.

Finally, in a corner, Ada spotted a rail-thin witch in an old-fashioned black dress sitting alone at a table for two. Ada frowned. The morning was only halfway through and already this witch looked defeated. As she watched, another severely-dressed witch dressed in black began winding her way through the tables. Ada recognized her at once. The way the hopefuls frowned and leaned away as she passed, it was clear most people knew who the woman was. Hecketty Broomhead, Ada thought with distaste. The woman’s…reputation…was widely known. She watched Mistress Broomhead stalking towards the girl in the back. She stayed only for a moment, but when she left, Ada could see the slump in the girl’s shoulders. No wonder the girl was sitting alone.  In proper education circles, any association with Hecketty Broomhead would be viewed as a liability.  Right, she thought, heading straight for the girl’s table, time for a spot of tea. It’s wasn’t the girl’s fault.

“May I join you?” Ada ignored the slight flinch as the younger witch looked up at her.

“Y-you can have it…” she said, as she started to gather her things.

“Nonsense!” Ada placed a hand on her shoulder, gently holding her in place. “There’s certainly room for both of us. I wouldn’t disturb you except my feet feel like I’ve been standing for days, not hours. I should have gone ahead and worn my sensible teacher shoes.” She placed a fresh cup of tea in front of her new tablemate. “As a thank you for sharing. I’m Ada, by the way.” She pressed a hand to her forehead and leaned forward. “Well met.”

The girl jumped a bit before returning the greeting. “I’m…Hecate.” She wrapped her hands around the tea cup as Ada settled in beside her. “Thank you. For the tea.” Sitting straight-backed and rigid, she took a sip and looked everywhere but at Ada.

Ada nodded at the stack of resumés on the table in front of her. “I gather you’re looking for a position? Any prospects?” If she hadn’t been looking, Ada would have missed the almost imperceptible wince.

“I don’t seem to be…Well, I don’t seem to be what anyone is looking for.”

Ada glanced the papers. “I can’t imagine why not. You scored a ninety-eight percent on your teaching certification exams. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a score that high – with a specialty in potions, no less.” She looked up to see a tinge of pink creeping up over the high collar of Hecate’s dress. “I’d think there would be a line of schools around the block trying to bring you into their fold.”

Hecate glanced warily over at Ada, as if she was trying to decide if Ada might be making fun. “It appears that mastery of one’s subject matter isn’t…isn’t sufficient for garnering a position.” She turned her resumé so Ada could see it more clearly. “There seems to be at least one glaring…deficiency.”

Ada studied the information, sensing the problem immediately. Hardbroom.  Hecate was a Hardbroom, and the Hardbrooms had a reputation – not a good one, either. Not exactly a bad one, but… Severe. Austere. Unrelentingly rigid. Dark, even, but that was only hearsay. Certainly, the Hardbrooms were one of the oldest, most powerful witching families, but no one would expect one to be a teacher. She eyed Hecate shrewdly. She certainly looked like a Hardbroom: tall, thin, pale skin and dark hair pulled tightly into a bun. The girl was everything one would expect of a Hardbroom. Until you saw her eyes. Rich brown flecked with green, Hecate’s eyes were soft, soulful even. Ada didn’t see any trace of hardness or the darkness people whispered about. “Everything certainly seems in order,” Ada said, softly. “Perhaps people don’t expect a Hardbroom to go into teaching? You’ll certainly be the first I’ve heard of.”

Hecate fiddled with the pocket watch that hung from a chain around her neck. “I quite imagine they don’t. Father certainly didn’t expect it. He wasn’t…pleased. He considers teaching to be beneath the Hardbroom family reputation.” She looked quickly away again, and Ada was certain Hecate had said more than she had intended to say. “My…tutor…wasn’t pleased, either. She expected me to enter into the Great Wizard’s service as a Potions Mistress.”

“That’s more about being a feather in Broomhead’s hat than doing what’s best for you, I’m sure.” She looked at Hecate’s shocked expression. She couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes darted around, as though she expected Mistress Broomhead to appear any second.

She was right to be worried.

“Hecate Hardbroom! I did not bring you to this vile event for you to socialize.” Broomhead’s voice could be heard even before she’d fully materialized. “It’s this lack of focus that keeps you unemployed.” She leaned down until her face, twisted in fury, was inches from Hecate’s. “You will not ruin my perfect record of full employment by my pupils. This is your last chance, Hecate. If you can’t find suitable employment today, you will accept the government post.”

Ada listened to the whole exchange with an ever-rising fury growing in her chest. She could feel the girl’s magic spiking and roiling beside her – as well as her desperate attempts to keep it under control. No wonder no one was willing to take a chance on her – between her father and her tutor, there was no telling how many ‘teaching’ methods would have to be unlearned. Well, Ada thought, if she wasn’t on this earth to help girls reach their full potential, she didn’t know why she was here. What did it matter if this girl was a grown woman. She needed help all the same.

Decision made, Ada addressed the horrid woman leaning over their table. “Actually, Hecate and I were just setting up her interview for a position at my school.”

“And who are you? You aren’t a Headmistress of any reputable witching school,” Broomhead spat.

“No, I’m not a Headmistress.” She stood up and greeted Broomhead properly, as loath as she was to do it. “Well met. I’m Ada Cackle. My mother is Alma Cackle? Perhaps you’ve heard of our little school?”

“Little school?” Hecate breathed, “it’s one of the most respected witching academies in Britain.”

“We do try.” Ada watched the series of emotions playing across Hecate’s wide eyes. “Tomorrow, then? Say around ten o’clock? You can stay for lunch and really get a good feel for the place – though I’m sure the interview will be just a formality.” Ada picked up one of Hecate’s resumés. “It was a pleasure, Hecate. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” She held out a hand, pleased when Hecate scrambled to take it, shining eyes filled with surprise and gratitude.

 

**The Interview**

“Look, Ada, I know you want to help this witch, but…a Hardbroom? Trained by Broomhead?” The setting sun cast long shadows through the windows of the Headmistress’s office, making Alma Cackle look sterner than she did normally. “This isn’t Wormwood’s. Isn’t that where most of Broomhead’s teacher candidates end up?”

“Hecate would never survive Wormwood’s, Mother. You didn’t see her.”

“Pish! She survived Broomhead, Ada. I’m sure she’ll manage Wormwood’s.” Alma picked up a file folder from her desk and waved it at her. “Besides, we don’t have the funds to pay another salary. Tell her Gwen.”

Miss Bat sighed and crossed to stand in front of the fireplace. “It’s true that funding is tight. But,” she turned to face Alma, “leaving her to likes of Broomhead – or her father – well, it doesn’t sit right. I’ve met Perses Hardbroom. That young woman can’t have had an easy life.”

Ada moved to stand in front of her mother’s desk. “The Code says that senior witches have a duty of care for junior witches. I know that she’s an adult, but I can’t stomach the idea of throwing her back into the cauldron.” Ada held her mother’s gaze, hoping she’d be convinced to do the right thing simply because it was the right thing. If not, she still had two more cards to play. Her mother didn’t budge. “Very well, if you won’t help the girl at least help yourself. You know that Miss Proctor’s time with us is…nearing its end. Wouldn’t it be best to bring in someone now to smooth that transition? Someone who can step into the potions position?”

“Now you’re a fortune-teller?” Alma’s harsh tone was undone by the furtive shift of her eyes towards her Deputy. “It doesn’t change the fact that we can’t pay her.”

“So. What I hear you saying is that it all comes down to money.” Ada grinned, victory already assured. “What if we didn’t actually pay her? I’ve had rather a brilliant idea about that.”

 

 

Ada checked her watch one more time. She’d been waiting at the front entrance since 9:53 even though she knew with absolute certainty that Hecate would arrive at precisely 10 o’clock. Ada could tell she was that kind of witch.

She hoped that Hecate would make a good showing today – or, at least not a bad one. It had been no small effort to convince her mother to agree to Ada’s plan to create an internship of sorts, finally sealing the deal by offering up part of her own salary to provide a stipend for Hecate. She couldn’t really explain why she felt so strongly about helping the girl get established; she just knew that she could not, in good conscience, send her back to the darkness of Mistress Broomhead’s tutelage.

As expected, at the appointed time the air in front of the door began to shimmer. Ada couldn’t hold back a pleased smile – until she realized that Hecate hadn’t arrived alone, that is. Her genuine smile shifted into a fake one as she greeted Miss Broomhead. “Well met, Sister. I must say, I wasn’t expecting to see you here today. Do you normally accompany your former pupils on job interviews?”

“When they seem incapable of securing a position, I do. Her credentials are impeccable, so I can only conclude that the fault lies somewhere with her.” Broomhead’s scathing tone sliced at Hecate like a razor – you couldn’t see the cuts, but the girl would bleed just the same. “The faster I determine what her problem is, the faster I can…remedy…it.”

Ada couldn’t help but see Hecate’s flinch at the thinly veiled threat, her hands balled into fists at her side. I know what her problem is, Ada thought, hotly – and it didn’t have anything to do with Hecate. Ada had already opened her mouth to say exactly that when a piece of paper, folded up like a bat, struck her in the chest before fluttering into her hands. “Excuse me a moment,” she said, stepping away from them. She opened the note and scanned it quickly, eyes darting over to Hecate, just catching the girl’s eyes before they dropped to the ground. Ada’s heart broke when she realized that Hecate knew what the note said.

 

_Ada,_

_A Mr. Perses Hardbroom has materialized in my_

_office. He is quite insistent that his daughter not_

_be ‘dragged into the cesspool of a mediocre life_

_in education.’ Give me 30 minutes before you_

_bring her here._

 

Ada shook her head in disbelief. No wonder the young witch couldn’t get a job. She studied the girl in front of her. If humiliation could be made human, Ada would be looking at it right now. “Mother has been delayed for a bit, but she’s asked me to give you a tour of the grounds.” Summoning a pen, Ada added a note about her unexpected visitor and sent it back to her mother. “Shall we?” She stepped up and ushered Hecate towards the witchball court, stopping abruptly when Broomhead made to follow. “You’ll have to forgive us, Mistress Broomhead, but here at Cackle’s our interview process is not open for spectators. Feel free to wait here – there’s a lovely view of the gardens from that bench just over there – or you’re welcome to wait outside Mother’s office. Or you can be on your way. If you like.”

“I’ll be joining you on your tour,” Broomhead snarled, glaring balefully down at Ada.

Ada smiled, small and tight. “As I said, that simply isn’t acceptable.” She turned to Hecate and gripped her elbow firmly. “Come along, then,” she said, transferring them out of sight.

They reappeared on the far side of the castle, near an outdoor kitchen. Hecate’s face was even paler than it had been.

Hecate spun in a circle, wildly trying to look everywhere at once. “She’s going to be very angry about that.” Hecate clutched at the watch around her neck, worry lines etching her forehead. “You don’t understand. She can…do things…she can be…” Hecate shuddered and looked around again.

“She can’t do anything to me, Hecate. Nor to you while you’re here.” Ada waved a hand and murmured a near-silent spell. A protective shield sparkled into existence around them before settling into invisibility. “Take a deep breath, dear. You’re perfectly safe with me.” She fished a paper bag out of her jumper pocket and held it out to Hecate. “Would you care for a butterscotch? I’ve always found a bit of sugar to be helpful when I’m under stress.”

“No…thank you.” She stared at the magic wall that had appeared around them. Trembling fingers traced the curve of the bubble-like surface, causing the film to sparkle everywhere she touched it. “This is…amazing,” She gave Ada a sideways glance, “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“I’ll be happy to show you how to do it sometime.” She watched Hecate examine the spell for a few more minutes. “She can’t transfer inside or hear what we say.” A small smile flickered across Hecate’s face, magically transforming her appearance. It disappeared just as quickly.

“It won’t matter…when I go back…”

“You aren’t going back,” Ada said, more forcefully than she’d meant to. “Sorry. That made it sound like you don’t have a choice. Of course, you do.” She gently coaxed Hecate away from the shield and motioned for her to follow along. The protective bubble floated along with them. “I have a proposition for you, Hecate.” She stopped as the girl scrambled back, wide-eyed. “Oh, for the love of Merlin’s cat, I am making a mess of things. Forgive me, dear. That was a poor choice of words.” Hecate relaxed, relief flooding her features. Not for the first time since yesterday afternoon, Ada wondered just what sort of ‘education’ truly went on with Mistress Broomhead.

Ada led Hecate over to a stone bench near a pond.  “Please, have a seat.” She waited until Hecate sat stiffly beside her. “Once we’ve finished the interview, I expect Mother will offer you a position as a junior potions teacher. It’s more of an internship, really.” One dark eyebrow lifted in interest. “Our current potions mistress is…nearing retirement…You’d have the year to transition to take her place starting the next winter term, if it all works out. Pay’s not much, I’m afraid. Room and board and a small stipend during the internship, full salary once you take over the job.”

Hecate blew out a long breath. “I don’t understand.” She stood up and stepped up to the bubble again, tracing sparkling shapes with her fingertip across its surface. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’ll answer your question, Hecate, if you’ll answer one for me. Why do you want to teach? Your father doesn’t want you to do it. You certainly have more lucrative options making potions for the Great Wizard. So why teaching?”

Hecate looked over her shoulder at Ada, smiling softly. “And here I thought you’d ask me something difficult.” Turning to face Ada, Hecate’s smile disappeared. “My mother died when I was young, leaving me with my father. He wasn’t – isn’t – a particularly kind man. School was the only place I felt…safe. The only place I ever received any sort of care. Not that my school days were particularly pleasant – far from it. But,” a wistful, far-away look appeared in her eyes. “I had a friend, a best friend, who wanted to build her own school. I don’t know how many times we’d lie awake at night and talk about running that school together. Father thought that was foolish, of course. He thinks teaching is beneath a Hardbroom.” Her brows furrowed together. “I’m sorry he’s here. That’s what the note said, is it not?” Hecate paused until Ada nodded in confirmation. “When I first finished my time with Mistress Broomhead, I did get a couple of interviews. Twice I was almost certain I’d gotten the job. Then I wouldn’t hear from the school again. Only Wormwood’s made an offer. I’m sure that was only because they were more afraid of Mistress Broomhead than they were of Father.”

“You didn’t accept Wormwood’s offer?”

Hecate shuddered. “No. I could never teach at Wormwood’s.”

“Why not?”

“They were too…enamored…of Mistress Broomhead’s teaching methods. I have…no desire to revisit her methods on anyone else – certainly not on children.” She sat back down on the bench next to Ada, wringing her hands together. “It scares me. All the time. I don’t want to be like her.”

“The fact that it frightens you is all the assurance I need that you aren’t anything like her. That’s another benefit of the internship. It’ll give you time to shed any methods that aren’t in keeping with Cackle’s philosophy.”

“Does – does Cackle’s require corporal punishment?”

“Absolutely not. We don’t do that here. Lines, confiscating a familiar for a term, restricting students to their rooms…that’s about the gist of it. I’ve heard things…” Ada trailed off when Hecate crossed her arms over her chest, shrinking into herself. “I’d be very disappointed if any of our girls were ever physically harmed by one of our teachers.”

Hecate nodded, loosening her arms a bit. “I still don’t know why you’re doing this for me. You don’t even know me.”

“That’s true, I suppose,” Ada agreed. “But I do know what it’s like to feel like you’re trapped in a life you didn’t ask for.” She winked a blue eye at Hecate. “And I can’t stand that Broomhead woman. I’m not too proud to admit that I’m thoroughly enjoying frustrating her. She’s a disgrace to witching education, and everybody – almost everybody – knows it.” Ada stood and held a hand out to Hecate. “I suppose we’ve left my mother enjoying the company of Mistress Broomhead and your father long enough. Shall we transfer?”

They appeared in front of the Headmistress’s office. Broomhead was waiting for them, fuming. Ada knocked firmly on the door and directed Hecate inside, closing the door on Broomhead’s shocked face. Hecate stuttered to a stop. Her father, silent rage rolling off him in waves, stood in the middle of the room, staring down Alma Cackle. The Headmistress stared back, arms crossed over her chest, not looking the least bit intimidated.

“I have had enough of this nonsense. No daughter of mine is going to waste her talents in some backwater school.” His haughty sneer deepened when he heard Alma’s furious hiss.

“It’s my life, Father.” Hecate’s voice was scarcely more than a whisper. “I want to stay.”

“What did you say!” He stepped forward, crowding into his daughter’s space.

Hecate stumbled backwards, bumping into Ada. “But…Father…I’ve been offered a position here.”

“You will come with me this instant, Hecate, or you will not be welcome in my home again.”

Hecate stared up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Was I ever welcome at all, Father? Once Mother died?”

Perses Hardbroom’s eyes narrowed, his face reddening with anger. “So be it.” He raised his hand and disappeared. All the air in the room seemed to depart with him.

Ada caught Hecate as her knees collapsed. She eased her over to a chair in front of the fireplace. “It’s all right, Hecate. Just breathe.” Behind her the door to the office banged open. “Sweet Merlin’s kickers,” she breathed, rolling her eyes. She’d forgotten about Broomhead.

“Here now, who do you think you are, barging into my office like that?” Alma slapped her hands against the wooden desktop.

“I’m Mistress Hecketty Broomhead, and I am taking my pupil at once. Never have I been so rudely treated as I have been today. Come, Hecate.” When she didn’t move fast enough, Broomhead sent a jolt of magic into Hecate, sending her yelping out of the chair.

In an instant, Ada had captured her in a binding spell, shocking both Broomhead and Hecate.

“Release me at once!” Broomhead hissed. “Have you any idea who I am?”

“Oh, yes. I know exactly who you are,” Alma Cackle spat as she shoved herself out of her chair and rounded her desk. “Hecketty Broomhead – hah! I remember you from my daughter Agatha’s time at Wormwood’s. You’re Wilhelmina Wormwood. You were a horrible little girl who did horrible things to everybody else and then tried to blame it on being bitten by a bat. You changed your name after you got expelled.” Alma stood in front of Broomhead, hands on hips, scowling. “You need to leave. Immediately. Hecate Hardbroom is no longer any concern of yours. And if you don’t, I’ll be mirroring the Great Wizard about the flagrant violation of the Code we all just witnessed.” She jerked her head towards Ada. “Let her go. She needs to be on her way.”

Ada dropped the binding spell, and Broomhead disappeared in a huff.

Hecate sank back into one of the chairs. “I’m so sorry about all of this.” She brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “Thank you for your time,” she said, pushing herself back to her feet. “I can see myself out.”

“See yourself out?” Alma looked at the girl as if she’d sprouted a second head. “After the morning I just had, you’re taking the job, young lady. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

“But…I…But…” Hecate continued to sputter until Alma took pity on her.

“Ada explained the terms, yes?” Alma asked, voice gentling.

Hecate nodded her response.

“Do you have a job elsewhere?”

Hecate shook her head no.

“Do you even have a place to live?”

“No…I guess I don’t…anymore.” Hecate’s cheeks glowed crimson.

“I guess an internship with room and board is just what you’ll be needing, then. Welcome to Cackle’s Academy.” Alma held out a hand and waited for Hecate to shake it. “Ada will show you where your rooms are. Summon your things before bat-brain decides to vanish it all.”

The afternoon had passed in a whirlwind of activity. Alma had Hecate summon her things immediately, and she’d been able to secure her belongings from Broomhead. Unfortunately, her father had already managed to lock down everything at the Hardbroom estate. Hecate had done her best to hide it, but she couldn’t quite keep the devastation out of those oh-so-expressive eyes. Reading between the lines of what Hecate mostly didn’t say, Ada gathered that he’d kept her from taking things that had belonged to her late mother. Nasty piece of wizardry, she thought, even surer that taking on Hecate was the right decision.

Summer break notwithstanding, Ada still fancied a stroll through the castle every evening before retiring. Not quite sure how it happened, Ada found herself standing in front of the new intern’s door. She knocked softly on the door, figuring she may as well see how Hecate was settling in.

The door opened to reveal Hecate, already in her nightclothes, clutching the collar of her thin cotton robe. Her hair was down, and her make-up removed. Ada thought she looked about fifteen this way. “Miss Cackle.” She swung the door open and stepped aside. “Please come in. Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour or I’d still be dressed.”

“Nothing to forgive, Hecate, except that you won’t call me Ada,” she teased. “I’m the one who showed up on your doorstep. I thought I’d see how you were settling in.” Stepping inside, she surveyed Hecate’s rooms. Room, really. In truth, it wasn’t much more than the hutches the girls occupied during term. One wall held a school-issue iron bedframe and mattress, complete with gray linens.  Another wall held a battered desk, also school-issue, with an uncomfortable looking chair. The only real perks this room had over a student’s quarters were the tiny fireplace and the private bath. The stone walls were bare. Everything was bare. The only personal touch Ada could find in the entire room was a stack of pink stationery out on the desk. “I hope I haven’t interrupted you in the middle of some important correspondence?”

“Not at all!” Hecate vanished the items so quickly Ada almost thought she might have imagined they were ever there.

“It’s perfectly normal to want to share your news, Hecate. I can show you where the post is in the morning, if you’d like.”

“Thank you, but…” her hands reached for the pocket watch, but it wasn’t there. Her eyes darted to the night table where it sat next to a stack of hair pins. “I don’t…I don’t actually post them. They’re…” Her voice trailed away; she was clearly embarrassed.

“A way to process, then,” Ada supplied, as cheerfully as she could. She made a show of scanning the room again. “You know, you aren’t limited to what came with the room. This is a bit…” Austere? Bleak? Depressing?

“It’s more than sufficient for my needs, Miss Cackle.”

“Ada. And it’s not just about what you need, Hecate. It’s about what you want. May I?” She gestured towards the fireplace. With Hecate’s approval, Ada summoned a small settee and an overstuffed armchair, angling them towards the fireplace, facing each other. After a moment she summoned a small coffee table and placed it in between. “That’s much better, don’t you think?”

Eyes shining, Hecate approached the settee as though Ada had gifted her Merlin’s own cauldron. “They’re lovely. For me to use?”

“Of course, dear. Why else would I have summoned them?” Lowering herself into the armchair, she summoned her own tea set. “Join me for a spot of tea?” She cast a small stream of magic into the pot until the water was boiling. “Chamomile? Since it’s late?”

“Please.” Hecate sat down on the settee as if it had been spun from glass, a half-smile quirking her lips. Accepting the teacup from Ada, Hecate inhaled the scent of the tea as it brewed. “Thank you. Is that ginger I smell? Beneath the cinnamon? And…” she twirled the strainer around the cup and breathed it in again. “Turmeric?”

“That’s right. I find it helps me relax in the evenings.” Extending her cup, she clinked it against Hecate’s. “To the start of a brilliant new year, a brilliant career, and a wonderful working relationship. Cheers, Hecate.”

“Cheers,” Hecate repeated, sipping her tea, “Miss Cackle.”

 

 

**Winter Term**

“Good morning, Miss Proctor, Miss Hardbroom. Ready or not, here they come!” Ada took up her place on the ground beside the small dais where her mother would soon be standing. Already pupils were beginning to arrive, most in the black cloaks and gray uniforms of the Academy, a few still in casual clothes. Ada leaned over, nudging Hecate with her shoulder. “It’s your first day of school, too.” She took in Hecate’s small smile – eager enough but tinged with nerves. “I see you’ve managed clipboard duty.”

“Yes, Miss Cackle. I shall endeavor to tick each box with precision and fidelity.”

“Ada. And was that a joke? My goodness. This is quite the first day.” Ada winked and turned her attention back to the arriving students. She was quite pleased with the way Hecate had adapted to life at Cackle’s over the last two weeks. She seemed to be getting on well enough with Miss Proctor, the outgoing potions mistress. The girl was still too quiet, too rigid, and she positively refused to call anyone by their first names, but Ada was confident that she’d made the right choice bringing her on.

“Well met, Sisters.” Alma Cackle transferred onto the dais, promptly followed by Miss Chickweed, the Witchory teacher, a grizzled old witch who had been at Cackle’s since before Ada was born. Ada was certain she would outlive them all. A moment later, Gwen Bat, chanting instructor and Deputy Head, joined them, bleary-eyed and humming a mournful chant. Ada shook her head, both shocked and impressed, knowing that Miss Bat had arrived no earlier than four-thirty this morning, tanked on witch’s brew. Unfortunately, since the disappearance of her…boyfriend? companion? lover? some five years ago, this seemed to have become Miss Bat’s Opening Day tradition.

“Miss Cackle,” Hecate whispered, “is she…well?”

“I’m afraid not, dear.” Ada debated for a moment how much to reveal, ultimately deciding that it was better for the younger woman to hear an accurate accounting, rather than snippets of gossip that may or may not be true. “About five years or so ago her…partner…disappeared under rather mysterious circumstances. Vanished. Without a word. Miss Bat has never recovered.”

Hecate swayed a bit, face paling beneath her best hat as she pressed the clipboard into her chest. Watery eyes looked up at Miss Bat filled with sorrow and…guilt? “Maybe he didn’t…perhaps he couldn’t…” She ducked her head and a single tear dripped onto the grass at her feet. “Maybe he didn’t know how to say goodbye.”

Ada studied the girl carefully. There was a story there, she thought. “I suppose it’s possible.” Ada reached into her cloak and pulled out a cinnamon candy. “Bit of sugar?” Hecate shook her head, blinking back the tears and straightening her spine. “To be honest, I don’t know what happened. I do know that he was a dashing fellow and seemed head over heels for Gwen. In fact, he’d just accepted the position of Spell Science teacher here, so he and Gwen could be together.”

“A wizard? Was going to teach here?” Hecate’s eyebrows seemed poised to leave her face altogether. “I can’t imagine such a thing: a wizard teaching at a witching school.”

“Algernon Rowan-Webb was no ordinary wizard. He was an outstanding teacher as well as a devoted companion to Miss Bat. I worry she’ll never recover.” Ada watched as Hecate drew further into herself, wondering what had happened in the younger woman’s life to cause this reaction. Ada hoped Hecate wouldn’t turn out to be too soft to deal with unruly children.

“Who’s that?”

Ada turned to see a Fourth Year whispering to one of her friends while raking her eyes up and down Hecate’s black dress and robes.

“She’s dressed like my grandmother,” the friend whispered back, far too loudly for Ada to hope Hecate couldn’t hear them. Out of the corner of her eye, Ada saw Hecate throw her shoulders back, clipboard flipping out like a shield.

“Your names,” she drawled, her voice low and hard.  A severe expression fixed itself firmly across her features. Hecate held her pen poised over the school roster.

If Ada hadn’t seen it herself, she wouldn’t have believed that, only seconds before, Hecate had been teary-eyed over the loss of Miss Bat’s true love. She looked at the Fourth Years, now standing at attention and greeting Miss Hardbroom properly. There was some steel in that skinny frame after all. Of course, there was, Ada reminded herself. Hecate Hardbroom had not only survived Mistress Broomhead, but her own family as well.

Opening Day continued in its usual, chaotically ordered fashion: the occasional crying First Year, flustered parents, frantic transfers home for forgotten necessities and many, many promises to write and mirror every day – some sincere, most not.

Ada kept a watch on Hecate throughout the day, fascinated by the way she could switch in and out of the strict persona as though she were putting on and taking off a cloak. It was like a cloak, Ada supposed, protecting Hecate from the curious looks she received from the younger girls. Too bad it wasn’t a suit of armor, Ada thought as another older girl tried to test the boundaries of the young, new teacher.

Exhausted long before it was time for rounds, Ada found herself walking the hallways in a stupor. Finally finishing the last corridor – Fifth Years who were unlikely to sleep tonight no matter how much she cajoled or threatened – Ada had just turned back towards her rooms when she heard it. Cocking her head to the side, Ada followed the sound until she was standing outside Hecate’s room. This close, even through the heavy oak door, it was obvious that Hecate was having a nightmare. No matter how hard she tried, Ada could make out only a few of the words Hecate was shouting in her sleep: a lot of ‘I’m sorrys,’ a ‘forgive me’ or two, and something that sounded like pipsqueak. Unsure what to do, but fairly certain that Hecate would not appreciate her entering her room, Ada finally decided that waking her was the best course of action.

Pressing her hands against the door, Ada muttered a simple spell to produce a small thunderclap inside Hecate’s room. She heard a great gasp as Hecate startled awake followed by the clattering of something against the stone floor. Sighing in relief, Ada transferred herself to her rooms, before she got caught lurking outside Hecate’s door.

 

 

Ada had tuned out her mother’s voice ten minutes into the staff meeting. Instead, she doodled on her clipboard and tried to look like she was paying attention. Miss Bat gave a soft snort and jerked herself upright. Though she hadn’t been at Cackle’s all that long, as one of the oldest witches on staff, Miss Bat could certainly manage to retire, but she’d made no mention of it. Ada doubted she would, not without Mr. Rowan-Webb.

As her mother droned on about turning in supply requests in a timely manner, Ada noticed that Cassandra Gullet, Mr. Rowan-Webb’s replacement, had positioned herself next to Hecate. Only a few years older than Hecate, Miss Gullet no doubt fancied herself the perfect person to mentor the young intern. Perhaps if Gullet was a bit more competent, Ada wouldn’t object.  But, once Ada began to take on more responsibilities as eventual Deputy, she’d been forced to split her Spell Science classes with Gullet. It hadn’t taken long for her to realize the woman was dreadfully dull and her lessons…well, to say they were uninspiring would be kind. Ada humphed softly to herself; Hecate surely wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with that cat-screech of a voice, either.

Miss Proctor held her clipboard firmly in her lap, pen scratching across the surface, but Ada knew the clipboard was to hide the crossword puzzle from today’s Witching Weekly. The other teachers all feigned varying levels of interest. Only Hecate seemed to be paying attention. Ramrod straight, sitting directly in front of the Headmistress, she was dutifully taking notes over every word Alma Cackle spoke.

In the three weeks since the term began, Hecate had settled into her serious persona – Broomhead-light, Ada had taken to calling it. Pulled a thousand different ways, Ada hadn’t had much of a chance to check in with Hecate since she’d had her nightmare. Taking the opportunity to observe the girl now, Ada could see that she’d lost a bit of weight that she could ill-afford to lose. Make-up and magic were both striving mightily to camouflage the dark circles under her eyes, but Ada could see that exhaustion pulled at Hecate. She remembered her first year of teaching; she’d thought that a lifetime spent at Cackle’s would make her immune to the normal trials and tribulations of the beginner teacher. She’d been comically wrong.

With a start, Ada realized that her mother had dismissed the meeting. She gathered her belongings and was almost out the door before her mother called her back.

“Have you spoken with Miss Hardbroom lately, Ada?”

Thinking about it, Ada was embarrassed to realize that she hadn’t. “Only in passing.”

“Check on her. Miss Proctor tells me she’s settling in, if a bit stern, but…well, I’d just as soon she not be getting teaching tips from Miss Gullet.”

“Agreed,” Ada said.

“She smells of wide-awake potion,” Miss Bat added. “She’s not sleeping.”

Ada hadn’t told anyone about hearing Hecate in the throes of her nightmare. Perhaps she hadn’t made it out of Broomhead’s clutches quite as unscathed as Ada had hoped. She wondered if the nightmare wasn’t a one-time thing. “I’ll see to it. I’ll invite her ‘round for tea.” Her eyes lit up as an idea popped into her head. “Better yet, I’ll get her a proper tea service of her own.”

 

 

“Good evening, Hecate.” Ada smiled and held out a large silver wrapped box. “You’ve made it through three weeks! May I come in?”

Hecate jumped and stepped back into her rooms. “Certainly, Miss Cackle. Come in.  I’d offer you a cup of tea, but I’m afraid I’ve not yet purchased a tea set of my own. I’ve been using the pot in the staff room.”

“Ada, Hecate. Please call me Ada. And don’t worry about the tea.” She clopped across the stone floor and set the box on the coffee table before taking a seat on the settee. “I love what you’ve done with the place,” she said, drily.

Hecate glanced around her sparsely furnished space. “I haven’t done anything, Miss Cackle.”

“That’s my point, dear. These are your rooms. You can do as you like with them. Add whatever personal touches you might like.” She glanced at the box on the table. “Starting with this.”

Lowering herself into the armchair across from Ada, Hecate studied the box as if it were extra-terrestrial in origin. Smiling shyly across at Ada, she pulled the navy ribbon loose and unwrapped the box. Lifting the lid away, Hecate revealed an elegant gray tea service, trimmed with black edging. “It’s lovely, Miss Cackle, but…” she pushed the box towards Ada, “it’s too much.”

“Nonsense, Hecate.” She waved her hand over the box, a perfectly laid tea appearing on the coffee table between them. “You are a member of the Cackle’s family and I want you to feel at home. Every home needs a proper tea.” She summoned the tin of her chamomile blend. “How about that cup of tea? You can tell me how you’re finding your classes.”

 

 

“What are your plans for the break?” Ada stepped aside to allow Hecate to enter the narrow corridor ahead of her. “Sleeping, I hope?” Ada struggled to keep the concerned tone out of her voice. In the weeks since she’d gifted Hecate the tea set, they’d developed a habit of taking an evening tea together before Ada started her rounds. She’d hoped that would encourage Hecate to talk about whatever kept her from sleeping, but that didn’t seem to be the case. The dark circles were more prominent than ever, and even Ada could recognize the occasional earthy whiff of ginseng from the wide-awake potion.

“I thought I might inventory the ingredients cupboard. I’m not sure Miss Proctor has taken a proper inventory in quite some –” Hecate stopped short, scrabbling backwards a couple of steps, shrieking. “GIRLS! STOP THAT AT ONCE!” With a sharp crack of magic, Hecate had two of the older girls suspended mid-air on opposite sides of the hallway. Both were red-faced and scrambling to put their school uniforms back in order and complaining about burning fingertips.

Ada slammed into Hecate’s back, losing her footing for a moment. “That’s enough, Miss Hardbroom! Put them down!” She forced her way past Hecate, making sure the young teacher complied. Gently, the girls drifted down to the floor.

“What did she do to my hands?” Rosalie Privet shouted, blowing on her fingertips.

Ada flicked a wrist towards each girl, setting their uniforms back in order and applying a quick healing spell to their hands. “I think a better question is what were you doing _with_ your hands?” She arched an eyebrow and waited for the girl’s response. All she got was an embarrassed stammer. The other girl, Harmony Milkweed, simply glared at Ada and Hecate. Sighing heavily, Ada shook her head. “I realize that it’s about to be the end of term and you won’t be able to see each other as much as you might like. Perhaps your parents would allow you to visit during the break?” Rosalie’s head jerked an emphatic ‘no.’ “I see. I’m sorry about that. But,” she motioned for both girls to stand in front of her, “we have very specific rules about public displays of affection. Even if you were of age – which you are not – having a go at one another in the middle of a First Year’s corridor is out of bounds. I’ll see you in the Headmistress’s office in a moment.” She raised her hands and transferred them away before they could respond. “Well, that’s one bit of dining hall gossip confirmed, I suppose.” She turned to look at Hecate. The woman had pressed herself against the wall, horror and terror mingling in her eyes. “Oh, dear.” Ada took a hesitant step towards Hecate, but she simply slid further away. Her hands were gripping her pocket watch so hard Ada feared for its safety. “Why don’t you go on to your room, Hecate. I’ll stop by once I’ve finished with the girls.”

“Yes, Miss Cackle,” Hecate said, her voice sounding as though she’d swallowed glass.

 

 

An hour or so later, two repentant Fourth Years were writing their lines for Alma and gathering the materials for the partner project Ada had assigned for them to do together over the break. Ada herself was knocking on Miss Hardbroom’s door. Frowning when the door opened by itself, Ada stepped into the room to find Hecate perched on the edge of her bare mattress, stone-still with puffy red eyes and a small suitcase at her feet. “Hecate?” The room had been scoured down to its barest level. Even the tea set Ada had gifted Hecate sat packed back in its box.

“I assume Mrs. Cackle wants me to leave tonight rather than wait until morning. Did she wish to speak to me before I go?

“Go? Hecate, she doesn’t wish for you to leave at all! No one does.” Ada carefully approached Hecate, afraid that if she moved too quickly the woman would bolt like a rabbit. “Why on earth would you think that anyone wanted you to go?”

“I used magic to…hurt those girls. I used it for corporal punishment.” Sniffing, she scraped a hand across her cheek.

“That’s true. And you are correct, that is unacceptable behavior here at Cackle’s. But in your defense…” Ada waited for Hecate to finish the sentence.

“There is no…defense. It’s the sort of thing Father would do. I swore I would never…it’s what she would do…I can’t be trusted, Miss Cackle.” She locked her hands together, thumbs rubbing against each other. “The first time I was tasked with discipline…I…I can’t.”

“Nonsense, Hecate. You were startled, and you reacted – not ideally, to be sure, but no one here has a perfect track record when it comes to dealing with misbehaving youngsters.” She pulled one of her ever-present bags of candy out of her pocket. “Would you like a toffee? And it’s Ada.” She sighed as she tucked the rejected candy back into her pocket. “The girls weren’t hurt, Hecate. Not really.”

“Not really? How is ‘not really’ acceptable?”

“I’m not saying that it is, Hecate. I’m saying that you need to give yourself a break! Would you have chosen to do what you did if you’d had time to think about it in advance?”

“No. Never.”

“And how do you feel right now?”

“I’m fine. I –”

“No. I meant to ask what are you feeling right now? Guilt? Embarrassment? A bit ashamed that you couldn’t control your temper?” Hecate nodded along with every emotion Ada listed. “I thought so. How about worry? Unless I’m very much mistaken, you’re afraid that you’ll be like Mistress Broomhead.”

Fresh tears filled Hecate’s eyes, dripping onto her hands. “That’s why I can’t…I’m a liability…”

Ada’s laugh erupted from somewhere deep in her belly. “I hardly think so…” she wheezed. “I know you’re upset and I don’t want to make light of that,” she wiped her eyes and giggled a bit more. “I’m sorry, I’m just remembering the first time I walked up on a pair of girls – in a much more compromising position. After hours. In the kitchen. On the elder Mrs. Tapioca’s food preparation table. We did not eat the pudding the next day, I assure you.” She reached out and pulled one of Hecate’s hands into her own. “Do you know what I did?”

“I’m sure you responded more appropriately than I.”

Ada snorted so hard it set off a brief coughing spell. “First, I dropped Pendle, my cat. Then I transferred those girls out of the kitchen so fast I wasn’t sure where they ended up. One turned up in Miss Bat’s chanting room and the other in the pond.” She saw the tiniest twitch of Hecate’s lips. “We all have our moments that we’d like to forget, Hecate. And…I can promise you that the next time you find yourself face to face with the wildfire of teenaged hormones – and there will be a next time – you won’t be quite so shocked.”

Ada could see the hope creeping into Hecate’s eyes. “You really didn’t come here to dismiss me?”

“No. I didn’t. I came to see that you were okay. Good thing I did, too.” She squeezed Hecate’s hand once before dropping it and moving over to set up the tea service. “I’m not going to pretend that I understand the…difficulties…you had to endure with your father or with Mistress Broomhead. But I’ll bet my last scrap of magic that what you did – as a knee-jerk reaction – has been done to you. Intentionally. With forethought.” Hecate looked down and away, but Ada could see the truth in her words. “Do you think either of them ever felt the slightest bit guilty or ashamed that they’d done it?”

“No. I know they didn’t. They thought it was what was best for me – even though I don’t…I don’t think that it was.”

Ada held out a cup and beckoned Hecate over. “That’s why you don’t have to be afraid that you’ll be like them, dear.”

Hecate appeared to ponder what Ada had said, sipping her tea silently. After half the cup she seemed to come to some sort of decision, waving her hand towards her suitcase, sending her belongings back to their proper places. Turning back around, she caught Ada’s eyes over the top of her tea cup. “Pudding?”

 

 

Ada shivered under her cloak as she stood in the middle of the courtyard supervising the students’ arrivals after the Yule break. Even her warming spell couldn’t compete with the damp and frigid January morning. She glanced across the snowy ground to see Hecate, wrapped in an old-fashioned cloak, looking miserable. Even from this distance Ada could see her gloved hands shaking from the cold. Hecate’s cloak was far too thin for winter, Ada decided. She reckoned that Hecate’s winter clothes had probably been at Hardbroom Manor when her father had banished her from the premises. Ada sighed, her breath a puff of white in the cold. The stipend Hecate was receiving wasn’t nearly enough to allow her to replace all the belongings she’d lost.

Ada crunched across the snowy ground until she was side by side with her potions intern. “It’s a bit nippy for this duty, don’t you think?”

“It’s certainly brisk.” Hecate’s lips quirked in an almost smile. Two more girls touched down on their brooms, practically blue with cold. Hecate ticked them off her list and waved them into the castle. “Work on those warming spells, girls! There’s hot cocoa in the dining hall.” Hecate shook her head, muttering about irresponsible parents and foolish girls.

“I thought Miss Bat had check-in duty today.”

“She did. I offered to take her place. It didn’t seem appropriate for her to be outside while I was inside.” She checked another girl off her list. “We’re still short Mavis Spellbody and…Mercy Foxglove.” She cast a sidelong glance Ada’s way. “You might be pleased to know that Harmony Milkweed and Rosalie Privet arrived. Together. They seemed…happy.”

“Wonderful. Perhaps their parents weren’t quite as disapproving as they thought.” Ada chuckled softly to herself. “I wonder if they actually worked on the project I sent home?”

“That was kind of you, Miss Cackle. I don’t recall Amulet’s being quite so…accepting.”

“It’s a boarding school; certainly, the girls will form attachments and some of them will be romantic. We aren’t here to keep them from forming healthy relationships any more than any other school is. We are here to keep them from snogging in the hallways, though,” she added drily.

“Or the kitchens.”

“Indeed. Just be glad we aren’t a coed school. All we have to contend with are the girls who fancy other girls and the rare young wizard who thinks he can outsmart our castle wards. I’m sure it takes industrial-strength spells to get the whiff of hormones out of the air at the coed schools.”

Two small dots appeared over the treetops, one not far behind the other. “Our last arrivals, I hope,” Hecate said, pen ready.

“Head on inside,” Ada shouted when they were close enough. “Come along, Hecate. I think I hear a mug of that cocoa calling me.”

“After you, Miss Cackle.”

“It’s Ada,” she said as she transferred to the dining hall.

 

 

The shrill ringing of the fire alarms slapped Ada awake. Blearily, she wondered who set the randomizing spells for the fire drills. Surely, the first night back after Yule was a poor choice. Stumbling out of bed, Ada magicked on her heaviest robe. She’d only just gotten warm from her last walk through the castle.

Stepping into the hallway, Ada pulled her door closed behind her and began shooing sleepy First and Second Years out into the courtyard. As she went, she reminded the girls to wear their robes and cloaks as well as the words for a basic warming spell.

It was still dark when she made it outside. Her mother, seemingly impervious to the cold, marched amongst the girls, lining them up, squashing any complaints or shenanigans. Ada checked the teachers, making sure they were all accounted for. Technically, it was Miss Bat’s duty as Deputy Head, but Ada knew she was as likely to ‘sleep’ through the drill as anyone else. Ada finally spotted her, yawning, at the edge of the courtyard, her expression somewhere between boredom and irritation. Bortation? Irribo? She was trying to work out the proper portmanteau when she caught sight of Miss Hardbroom wrapping her cloak around three shivering First Years before taking her place in the teachers’ line.

Ada glanced at the girls one last time, content to leave the fire drill speech to her mother. She slipped into line beside Hecate. Ada noted that the younger woman was still wearing her threadbare summer-weight robe, shivering even as she clutched the collar to her throat. “That was kind of you to give the girls your cloak, but…” She stopped herself before she asked if Hecate had another robe. Of course, she didn’t. Hecate wasn’t a fool. If she had a better robe, she’d be wearing it.

She rummaged through the pocket of her cloak until she felt a familiar crinkle. “Would you care for a treacle dab? A bit of sugar might warm you up.”

Hecate’s teeth were chattering too hard for her to answer properly, but Ada took the slightly horrified look in her eyes as a hard ‘no.’ Instead, she extended her own warming spell over the both of them, layering her own over Hecate’s.

 

 

When she finally made it to Hecate’s door, it was much later than Ada had planned. Still, she thought, if there was a chance Hecate was awake, she’d rather her have               her gift sooner, rather than later.  As she lifted her hand to knock, Ada heard the now familiar sound of one of Hecate’s night terrors. Ada didn’t know if they were coming more frequently or if Hecate was so overtired that she couldn’t properly cast the silencing spell for her door.

Her fingers were already raised to cast her thunderclap spell again when she was startled by the sharp crack of the oak door splitting in front of her. She shifted her magic into a spell to repair the door, then cautiously stepped into the room.

Hecate was still in bed; the bed covers twisted around her as she thrashed about trying to free herself. Flames sparked and flickered out before roaring to life again in Hecate’s tiny fireplace. The loose magic in the air made Ada’s hair prickle against her scalp.

“Hecate?” she said, her voice gentle so she wouldn’t startle the girl. When she didn’t get a response, Ada stepped closer to the bed. She could make out some of what Hecate was saying – mostly apologies to her father, to Mistress Broomhead, to someone called Pipsqueak, to Ada herself. Ada couldn’t be sure what all she was apologizing for, but the list seemed extensive. She spoke up again, louder this time. “Hecate.” Still not enough.

When the table lamp began to vibrate, and Ada detected the faint scent of ozone, she knew she had to act. Ada dropped her ribbon-wrapped bundle on the foot of the bed and took a firm grip on Hecate’s knee, praying it didn’t trigger any more terrible memories from Hecate’s youth. “Hecate! You’re having a nightmare!”

Hecate bolted upright, sucking in such a giant lungful of air that she started coughing furiously. Wild, haunted eyes flashed around the room, staring at everything until they finally landed on Ada. Scrabbling backwards, Hecate tried to move away, but she was trapped in the twisted mess of blankets. Her chest heaved as the panic set in again.

“It’s okay, Hecate. You are all right.” Ada held her hands up to try and show Hecate that she didn’t mean any harm. “You’ve gotten tangled up a bit. I’m going to fix it for you.” Ada kept up a soothing stream of nonsense chatter as she slowly moved to the foot of the bed and began pulling the blankets free. By the time she finished, Hecate seemed to have come back to herself for the most part.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Cackle,” she said, cheeks flushing red, blanket pulled up to her chest. “I didn’t mean…I mean…I didn’t want…”

“Didn’t want to have a nightmare?” Ada supplied gently. “I rather expect not. They happen quite frequently though, don’t they?” A half-hearted shrug was the only response Ada received. “May I sit down?” Another shrug, but Hecate shifted until she was sitting cross-legged and leaning against the headboard. Ada took that as a yes and eased herself onto the mattress, far enough away that she wouldn’t accidentally touch Hecate, but close enough to place a hand on Hecate’s knee if she wanted. “Not that I don’t already know the answer, but would you care for a Jelly Baby to steady your nerves?” After the expected refusal came, Ada popped a couple into her own mouth, chewing slowly and giving Hecate time to collect herself further. “You know it’s perfectly acceptable to call me Ada. I’m just another teacher here; it doesn’t matter who my mum is.”

Anxiety still shined in Hecate’s eyes. “I know. It’s just…”

“When you’re comfortable, dear. When you’re comfortable.” Ada fished in her bag and pulled out a raspberry flavored Jelly Baby – her favorite. “I’ve heard you before, you know. When I’ve been out on rounds. Usually I just cast a spell to wake you up. They start again, though, don’t they?”

Hecate didn’t look at her. She didn’t move at all, other than to reach for the pocket watch that normally hung around her neck. When she didn’t find it, she twisted handfuls of the blanket in her lap instead. “It’s not…every night…” she said, so low that Ada had to strain to hear her.

“But it’s most nights, isn’t it?” Ada nibbled at another Jelly Baby, working out how to say what she needed to in a way most likely to be helpful. “I know that you’re…private. Perhaps that has more to do with not feeling safe enough to talk about things with someone? Or just not having someone who’s happy to listen?” She pretended not to see the single tear that slipped from the corner of Hecate’s eye.

“You don’t have to…”

“I know. But I want to. And maybe…you’d like me to?” Ada watched Hecate’s hands still for a moment before resuming their abuse of the blankets. “I know you are more than capable of casting a proper silencing spell and yet,” Ada pointed towards the door, “I’ve still heard you on nights I have rounds. No one else has mentioned it. It occurs to me that perhaps you wanted me to…hear? Maybe you weren’t sure how to ask for help or if it would be all right to do that? I’m sure you were expected to be self-reliant with Broomhead. Your father as well.” Ada grunted out a dry laugh. “I will admit to being rather slow on the uptake, though. It’s nearly Candlemas for Merlin’s sake.”

“Asking for…anything…” Hecate’s bloodshot eyes flickered up to Ada’s and then away.

“How about you don’t ask, then. How about I just offer?” Ada could swear she saw the tiniest bit of tension ease out of Hecate’s shoulders. “Why don’t I sit with you tonight while you go back to sleep. I’ve got a huge stack of marking to do, and there’s no reason I can’t do it here. If you start dreaming again, I’ll wake you up before it gets too bad.” Ada didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she summoned her marking and magicked Hecate’s armchair over next to the bed. “If you’d rather talk or read, that’s fine as well. Or I could read to you? I’m just about to start a new novel.”

“That would be…nice,” Hecate said, scooting further under the blankets and turning onto her side so she was facing Ada. When she stretched her legs out, she accidently kicked the bundle Ada had brought with her onto the floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I’ve knocked your parcel off.”

“I forgot about that,” Ada said, placing the freshly summoned novel onto the bedside table. “It’s yours, actually.” Bending down, Ada picked up the bundle and untied the ribbon. She stood up and shook out a long, heavily quilted black leather dressing gown. “I couldn’t help but notice that yours wasn’t very warm the other night, during the fire drill. This will be better in this drafty old castle.”

“That’s very kind, Miss Cackle…I can’t accept it, though.” Her fingertip traced the pattern of the quilting.

“You can, and you will.” Ada draped it over the foot of Hecate’s bed and vanished her thin summer one to the cupboard. She dropped into the armchair and chanced a light hand on Hecate’s knee. “You’re starting from scratch, Hecate. Please, allow your friends the honor of helping you.”

Hecate chewed her lip before reluctantly nodding her agreement. “Thank you, Miss Cackle. It’s…it’s quite lovely.”

“I thought it a bit more you than a pink floral.” She patted Hecate’s knee before easing back into her chair. “How about a chapter or two? I’ll read until you fall asleep.”

“You really don’t have to,” Hecate said, swallowing a yawn.

“You need to sleep, Hecate. Miss Bat is concerned about you and how much wide-awake potion you’ve been taking. Mother is worried. I’m worried.” She nudged the mattress with her foot. “Miss Proctor is worried about how much ginseng and hummingbird’s blood you’ve been going through.”

“I’m surprised she noticed,” Hecate’s sleepy voice was muffled by her pillow. “She still won’t let me take a proper inventory.”

“Go to sleep, dear. I’ll be right here.” With a wave of her hand Ada dimmed the lights and summoned a tiny ball of light, just enough to read by. “ _It was just the kind of evening Charlotte Fortnum loved. Cloudy with a slight nip in the air and the faint hint of drizzle…_ ”

 

 

“Miss Hardbroom?”

Ada turned around to see one of the youngest First Years tugging at Hecate’s sleeve. The entire academy had gathered in the courtyard to celebrate Candlemas and participate in the annual ritual of marking the passing of winter into spring. Hecate had been charged with handing out the necessary candles and rosemary incense to the older girls, spring flowers to the younger.

“Miss Hardbroom! I don’t feel very well.”

“Are you sure you aren’t simply overexcited?” Hecate gave the girl a quick once-over. “Please get back in line, Ellery. There really isn’t time for –”

Mouth gaping, Ada watched as Ellery Pine emptied the entire contents of her stomach down Hecate’s front. And then did it again. And again. Frozen in place by the sheer quantity of vomit the girl had produced, Ada was too slow to avert the inevitable chain reaction that began with the girl who had been standing next to Ellery. At least she only managed to splatter Hecate’s shoes.

Jerked into action, Ada hastily raised a concealment spell, blocking the sight, sound and smell of the…incident…from the other girls. She only hoped that things would settle down on the other side of the spell; from the sound of things, though, they did not.  Turning around she found Hecate, staring at her sick-covered dress and shoes, arms held awkwardly out to her sides. Ada could see the convulsive working of her throat and fast, shallow breathing. With both hands she vanished as much of the mess as she could, hoping that Hecate would manage to keep her own stomach under control.

“Why don’t you transfer to your room, Hecate. Get cleaned up. I’ll get these girls to the infirmary and then pop ‘round to check on you.” She nodded encouragingly, and Hecate transferred away. “All right, then girls. Do you think you can keep all the bits meant to be on the inside actually inside if I transfer us? Or do we need to walk?” As an answer, Ellery Pine chucked up one more time. Needless to say, the Candlemas ceremony came to a quick and ignoble end.

 

 

Ada rapped sharply on Hecate’s door, and then went ahead and eased it open. “Hecate? Are you okay?” She found Hecate sitting on her sofa, a cup of tea in hand. Her hair was down and damp and the whole place smelled of rosemary and mint. “It is something of a rite of passage, you know.” She held out a bag of raspberry ruffles, stuffing them quickly away when Hecate blanched and covered her mouth and nose. “Sorry! Is the tea ginger?” Hecate nodded.

“How are the girls?” Hecate’s voice was heavy and thick, as though her voice itself was keeping the contents of her stomach contained. “Ellery tried to tell me…”

“I know. I saw her talking to you. I saw you listening to her, Hecate. You didn’t brush her aside, not really. You didn’t have time…” She broke off, unable to hold in a laugh. “I’m sorry, Hecate…but, really…the look on your face.”

Hecate smiled ruefully into her mug before giving up and allowing a slight chuckle to escape. “How on earth did all of that come out of one little girl?” She shook her head. “My dress will never be the same.”

“Not likely. Just be glad you missed the rest of the ceremony – such as it was.” Ada poured herself a cup of tea, enjoying the delicate bite of the ginger. “I don’t have rounds tonight, but, since I’m here, I thought we might make it through another couple of chapters?”

“I’d like that.”

They’d developed a routine of sorts. On the nights that Ada had rounds, she would stop by Hecate’s room afterward for a cup of tea and a hand of cards. Afterwards, Hecate would crawl in bed and Ada would read a few chapters from the latest Ordinary novel. Once Hecate had drifted off, Ada would summon her marking or one of the witching romance novels she didn’t think Hecate would care for and keep watch over the younger witch as she slept. If Hecate gave any indication that she was starting one of her night terrors, Ada was there with a gentle tap to the foot. Once Hecate settled down again, Ada would transfer away to her own rooms.

On the nights Ada didn’t have rounds, Hecate would cast silencing spells over her room and hope for the best. Sometimes Ada would come by, but not often. The arrangement worked rather well. Ada didn’t suffer much from the loss of a few hours sleep a week, and Hecate benefitted immensely from the additional, nightmare-free rest. Her first term gauntness had largely disappeared, and while she was still rail-thin, Hecate no longer looked skeletal.

Ada had also noted that the nightmares seemed to be coming with less frequency. She liked to think it had something to do with their arrangement, but she knew that Hecate’s growing familiarity with Cackle’s routine and her role within it helped a great deal as well.

 

 

**Summer Term**

Ada stumbled into the Headmistress’s office, glasses askew, chest heaving. “I came…as soon as… I heard,” she gasped. “Is the girl all right?” Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, Ada took in the scene in front of her. Miss Proctor, Miss Bat and her mother all stood in a semi-circle around the room. Hecate stood in the middle, straight and still except for the way her index fingers rubbed against her thumbs.

“No thanks to Miss Hardbroom.” Alma cast a withering glance at her potions intern before turning to her Deputy Head. “Go take some statements from the girls in the lab. The paperwork on this is going to be a nightmare.” Miss Bat summoned a clipboard and transferred from the room.

Ada knew she needed to tread carefully.  Rumors were already flying faster than a broomstick through the castle. Ada herself had listened to a breathless student describe how Miss Hardbroom had punished Mavis Spellbody for ruining a potion. To hear the girl tell it, Hecate had magicked Mavis into the air, spinning and tossing her until she’d ‘chucked up her toenails,’ all while the potion foamed out of the cauldron, engulfing everyone’s boots in a sticky mess.

Now, here she was in her mother’s office, feeling as if she’d been magically transported back to her youth, when she and Agatha would be called on the carpet for something that hadn’t truly been her doing in the first place. The only difference? When Ada looked at Hecate, she didn’t see Agatha and her scheming or her willful disregard for health and safety. She saw a young witch who’d spent her entire life being told she wasn’t good enough and who’d just marked another failure in her ledger.

Alma stomped to her desk, dropping into her chair with a forcefulness that surely strained the limits of its joinery. “I never should have agreed to bring her here.” She pointed an accusing finger at Ada. “The one thing I said when I agreed to your ridiculous plan to create a position for her…The solitary condition…I would not allow that Broomhead woman’s methods to taint this Academy. I won’t have it. I never should have allowed one of Broomhead’s pupils into Cackle’s, much less one that’s also a Hardbroom.”

Ada tried to catch Hecate’s eyes, but the younger woman continued to stare at the floor in front of her. “Are you sure you aren’t beating the bat to the belfry, Mother? Miss Bat hasn’t even talked to the girls in the class yet.”

Alma’s mouth was already open to reply, when she was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Come in,” she screeched, causing everyone but Hecate to jump.

Daisy Fettle, Cackle’s school nurse, bustled into the office, all efficiency and starched white linen. “I thought you might want a report on our patient.” Once Alma nodded her permission, she continued. “She’s still feelin’ a bit wonky, but she’s in high spirits for a girl that just got herself nearly poisoned. Antidote is stayin’ down well enough. I expect she’ll be out of the infirmary in a day or two.”

“Poisoned, you say?” Ada crossed her arms and glared as frostily at her mother as she dared. “Perhaps we’ve just got the whiskers and not the whole cat?”

“Aye. She mucked up her potion. Good thing her teacher was there – that was quick thinking on Miss Proctor’s part, that was.  Saved that girl a world of trouble.”

Mrs. Cackle scoffed at the school’s mediwitch. “Sending a girl to the infirmary is hardly revolutionary thinking, Miss Fettle. It’s proper protocol.”

“I don’t mean that, Headmistress. If Miss Proctor hadn’t caused that girl to chunder up the potion straight off…we could have had a tragedy on our hands – a real tragedy.” Miss Fettle smoothed her nurse’s smock, shaking her head and tutting under her breath. “I still don’t see how a Third Year could mix up mandrake powder and ground foxglove.”

“I think I know,” Miss Bat said as she transferred back into the rooms. “The ingredients were mislabeled. All the girls’ potions would have been wrong. Mavis just happened to finish first.” She looked between Hecate and Alma, a sour expression puckering her face. “Mavis’ cauldron partner was quite adamant that Miss Hardbroom had already started spinning the girl in the air _before_ the potion boiled over.”

“It is lucky that someone caused her to expel that potion.” Ada said, eyeing her mother evenly. “Who knows how many other girls might have sampled their potion if _Hecate_ hadn’t intervened.”

Alma thanked the mediwitch and transferred her back to the infirmary. The girl would spend the night there, recovering from her near-fatal poisoning. Alma leaned back in her chair, tapping her spectacles against her chin. “You knew there was something wrong with the potion, then.”

“I could smell the mandrake root when she ladled it into her cup,” the words had to claw their way out of Hecate’s throat. Her eyes never left the floor. “I wasn’t fast enough to keep her from drinking it in the first place.”

“Still…” Alma sighed, “you did…well. Why don’t you go –” Hecate disappeared in a flash of light, slight scorch marks on the floor where she had been standing. The sudden silence that fell after she left wasn’t broken until Alma, head buried in her hands on the desk, groaned in weariness.

“Unbelievable!” Ada rapped on her mother’s desk with her knuckles. “Is that really all you think you need to say to her? You accused her of abusing the students when it…when it was her quick thinking that kept an entire class from poisoning themselves! All because you don’t want to admit –”

“That’s enough, Ada! You’d do well to remember that I’m still your Headmistress here!”  Barreling around the desk, Alma pushed herself into Ada’s face – clearly surprised when her daughter didn’t give way.

“How could I, Mother? My entire life has been one long reminder that you’re Headmistress here. But, you’d also do well to remember that you want me to take over as Head when you retire.” Magic started to crackle just under Ada’s skin. “I won’t be Headmistress of a school that treats its people the way you treated Hecate today. I can teach anywhere. It doesn’t have to be here.”

“Ada!” The shocked gasp came from Miss Bat, not her mother. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that Mother needs to make things right with Hecate – properly right – or…or I’ll resign my position here and leave the school to Agatha.” Ada’s lips quirked into a lopsided smile when she realized that she was, in fact, not bluffing at all.

“What hold does that girl have over you, Ada?” She didn’t sound angry anymore. Just tired.

“She has potential, Mother. And extraordinary talent. And no one wanted to give her a chance because her last name is Hardbroom or because she’s one of Broomhead’s girls.” Ada finally retreated a few steps and leaned against her mother’s desk. “She has every reason to be like them – to be like Agatha. And yet she isn’t. She needs a clean start and we can help her. It’s our duty to do it, Mother.”

“Very well, Ada. I’ll go speak with her. I’ll make amends.”

“And for Puck’s sake, tell her why the ingredients were mislabeled before she blames herself for that. It’s time she knew the truth.”

 

 

She’d been pacing outside of Hecate’s door for the better part of an hour. Her right pinky toe, Ada was certain, now sported a huge blister. Unable to stand it any longer, Ada tapped on the door, waited a heartbeat, then entered anyway.

Hecate and her mother sat on the settee, drinking tea. Muscles that Ada hadn’t realized were tight eased when she saw that Hecate hadn’t packed up her few belongings.

“Please, Miss Cackle, won’t you join us?” Hecate looked up at Ada, desperation in her eyes. “I’ll pour you a tea. It’s your chamomile blend.”

“Actually, I’ll be heading back to my duties. I’ll leave you two to it.” Alma placed her teacup on the coffee table and dusted the biscuit crumbs from her lap as she stood. As she passed Ada at the door, Alma gripped her elbow and whispered, “Things are better. I think I’ve talked her out of leaving. Please be sure that I have.” She clapped Ada on the shoulder and bid them goodnight.

The rattling of the teacup in its saucer was Ada’s only warning that Hecate had held it together as long as she could. Ada transferred onto the sofa, wrapping her arms around Hecate’s bony shoulders just as her tears burst forth.

Ada rocked her back and forth and let her cry it out. She didn’t try to soothe her with words or magic, she just waited. In time, the tears slowed down. Ada shifted them about until she was leaning back on the settee, her feet propped on the coffee table, Hecate still pulled against her side. She was rather surprised when Hecate settled against her.

“It’s never going to change, is it?” she asked softly. “I’m always going be the bastardized banshee legacy of the Hardbrooms and Broomhead.” She tried to take a deep breath, but it caught and sputtered on the way in and out.

“Nonsense. You are simply a young woman who hasn’t had the time to make her own reputation yet. Believe me, it’s a feeling I understand.” Ada summoned the letter laying on the coffee table. As she thought, it was Hecate’s resignation. “This won’t get you your own reputation.” She cast a small spell and watched it burn into nothingness.

“Your mother doesn’t trust me. Her first thought was that I had hurt a pupil. That’s always going to be everyone’s first thought, isn’t it?”

“It wasn’t my first thought, dear.” Loosening one arm, she fished a bag of candy from her pocket. “Strawberry bonbon?” That brought a soft chuckle from Hecate, finally. “One day, I’ll find the right one. You just wait.” She slipped the bag back in her pocket. “And just so you know, Mother doesn’t trust me either. It’s why I’m still not Deputy Head, even though I’m nearer forty than thirty.”

“Her mistake then.”

“Undoubtedly,” Ada grinned. “Could you really smell the mandrake root?”

A stray bit of hair tickled Ada’s cheek when Hecate nodded. “I’ve always been able to do that, hereditary, I suppose. If I’d known I needed to check…”

“Handy, that.” Ada’s forehead creased in regret. “You should have been told…about Miss Proctor. Mother and the other older teachers…it’s been hard for them – too close to home.” Ada tried to roll the shoulder that Hecate was leaning against. “Budge up, dear, my arm’s going to sleep.” Hecate bolted upright. Ada wriggled her arm a bit and dropped it down behind Hecate’s waist. “Back you go.” When Hecate hesitated, Ada pulled her back. “It’s all right, Hecate. You look like you need a hug, and I’m happy to oblige.”

“I don’t even remember what a hug feels like anymore.” She summoned her cup of tea and settled further into the sofa and Ada. “It’s terrible about Miss Proctor. When did you first know her mind was…wandering?”

“It started last year. Little things, really, like telling the same story two or three times in a row, but not realizing it. She’d wind up in strange parts of the castle, never quite sure why she was there. If you look at those crosswords she’s always doing, you’ll see she’s just putting letters in boxes.” Ada recrossed her ankles on the coffee table. “I don’t know if it’s the worst part or the best part, but she doesn’t seem to know it’s happening. At first, I think she did.”

“How can I help?”

“Don’t quit, for starters.”

“I’ve…I’ve already told your mother I’ll stay.” She finished her tea and floated the cup back to its saucer on the table. “She seemed…both angry and contrite.”

“That’s about the shape of it. Mother has never been good at admitting she’s in the wrong. Or that she’s acted rashly. She did both today.” Ada gave Hecate a little squeeze. “You should have been congratulated for what you did, Hecate. You saved a student’s life. I hate to think what could have happened if you hadn’t been in there and acted as quickly as you did.” She pulled her arm out from behind Hecate and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I hate what you must have gone through with Broomhead. It makes me sick when I think about why you knew how to do that. But…you used all that ugliness for something good today. It’s not the knowledge you’ve got, Hecate. It’s what you do with it.”

Ada pushed herself to her feet and held a hand out for Hecate. After a second’s hesitation Hecate took it, and Ada pulled her into a real hug. “Just to make sure you remember what they feel like.”

 

 

Ada helped herself to her third biscuit from the plate in the staff lounge. She probably should have picked a chair farther from the plate. No, she thought, closing her eyes as she bit into her chocolate lemon biscuit. It had been a very long day. Surely, she’d earned a biscuit or two. Or four.

The door opened, and she looked up to see Hecate leading Miss Proctor into the lounge. Hecate’s arms were full of marking to be done. Ada waved her papers into a tidier stack and called them over to join her. She double checked her papers, making sure that the contract for the potions position was out of sight. Her mother had just drawn it up that morning, in response to Miss Proctor’s rapid decline since the mandrake incident.

“Look, Miss Proctor, we can sit with Miss Cackle. She always has biscuits and sweets.” Hecate winked at Ada as she ushered Miss Proctor into the chair. “I’ll pour us some tea.”

“How are things in potions today, Miss Proctor? It was double potions with the Second Years, correct?” She held her teacup out so Hecate could top it off as well. “They seem to be progressing quite well.” Ada’s smile faded slightly when the older witch didn’t respond. Magic could do so many things, she thought, so many terrible and wonderful things. But there were still so many things it couldn’t fix, couldn’t cure, couldn’t repair. This horrible fading of the mind was one of them.

“We’ve had a good day, Miss Cackle, haven’t we?” Hecate settled into the chair on the other side of Miss Proctor. She placed a biscuit on Miss Proctor’s saucer and handed it all to her mentor. Hecate divided the assignments between them and set to marking her stack. “But it’s nice that it’s over.”

Ada nearly jumped out of her skin when Alma transferred into the staff room, practically landing in her lap. Before Ada could even speak, Alma summoned the contract and slapped it on to the stack of papers in Hecate’s lap.

“Sign this. Now.” Alma tapped the paper. “Your father’s here to collect you. Sign it.”

“He can’t j-just…collect her…she’s a grown woman!” Ada sputtered. Hecate didn’t waste any time signing the paper. Ada doubted she even knew what she was signing.

As soon as Hecate finished, Alma snatched the paper and folded it into her jumper pocket. Her hand hung, mid-transfer, when Mr. Hardbroom slammed into the staff room, followed by Mistress Broomhead.

“What is the meaning of this?” Mr. Hardbroom shouted. “Hecate! This foolishness has gone on long enough. Collect your things.”

Ada looked at Hecate. The dejected girl from the job fair sat across from her now – as if the last year never happened. Hecate sat, brittle and still, the defeated look back in her eyes. “Hecate has a job, Mr. Hardbroom. A commitment. I’m sure you wouldn’t want her to break her commitment.” Just in case, Ada reached across Miss Proctor and grabbed Hecate’s wrist. If anyone tried to transfer her away, they’d get more than they bargained for. A flicker of gratefulness flashed across Hecate’s eyes.

“The end of term is near enough. Make do.  She doesn’t even hold a real position.” He spun on his heel, motioning for Hecate to follow as if she were some Ordinary dog. A pet. Fortunately, Hecate was still too stunned to respond.

“She’s signed her contract, Mr. Hardbroom.” Alma Cackle’s quiet voice did little to mask her fury. “A continuing contract. I will be holding her to it.” Mistress Broomhead stepped around Hecate’s father. Alma held up her hand before Broomhead could speak. “I don’t even know why you’re here, Wilhelmina Wormwood. Hecate is no longer your concern.” She waved a hand and transferred Miss Broomhead beyond the gates, adjusting the spells as she did so. Wilhelmina Wormwood – or her alter ego Mistress Broomhead, would never be able to return to Cackle’s without an invitation. And she wasn’t bloody likely to get one of those.

“You can’t keep her here.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Hardbroom. I’m well within my rights to hold her to her contract.” She snapped her fingers and opened the staff room door. “You, however, have no rights to her whatsoever. She’s an adult. Not property.” Alma held her ground, even as they all watched his face turn redder and redder. “Ada.”

Ada didn’t need any more encouragement. In the space between one heartbeat and the next she transferred Hecate and herself into Hecate’s room, catching Hecate around the waist the instant they materialized. “Steady on, Hecate. You’re all right.” She settled her onto the settee. “He can’t force you to leave. Mother won’t allow it.” She tapped her fingers under Hecate’s chin, forcing her to meet her eyes. “And if by some miracle he makes it past her to me? He won’t know what hit him. Don’t let my fuzzy jumpers fool you. I can be fierce.” She summoned a bag of candy from her room. “Would you care for a lemon drop?”

It took a moment before Hecate’s eyes focused on the bag. “I would, thank you.” Ada was too stunned to do anything but gawp at her, so Hecate helped herself. “Not too sweet, lemon drops.”

They sat in companionable silence; Hecate worried with her pocket watch while Ada fussed with a loose thread on her jumper. Finally, Ada couldn’t stand it another minute. “It’s like waiting for the bloody executioner, isn’t?”

“It’s like every day of my childhood, Miss Cackle.”

“Ada. I can’t imagine how those two people managed to produce someone as brilliant as you, Hecate. It makes me view Amulet’s in a whole new light.”

“I had a friend…she was…bright. In all the darkness, she was bright.” She looked up at Ada with a sad smile. “She was bright enough to reflect some of that light onto me.”

“Are you still friends?”

Hecate shook her head. “Not for years.” Her tone made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about it. Ada didn’t press.

They both started at the soft knock on Hecate’s door. Ada made to answer it, throwing a look over her shoulder. “I doubt your father would knock.”

Ada braced herself against the off-chance it did turn out to be Perses Hardbroom, but it wasn’t. Instead, Alma stood on the other side of the door, looking both angry and pleased. “Your father sends his regrets, Miss Hardbroom.” A mousy witch, frail and bent from hard use stood next to Mrs. Cackle. Somewhat older than Alma, she cradled a battered cardboard box against her chest. “There’s someone who wants to see you, Hecate. I think you’ll be pleased.

Hecate climbed slowly to her feet. “Miss – Miss Luna?” Hecate took a hesitant step forward. “Is that you?”

“Look how tall you’ve grown, Little Miss, and you look so much like your mother.” She handed the box off to Alma and held her arms out. Hecate took another slow step forward before launching herself into the older witch’s arms.

“He won’t be pleased you’re here,” Hecate whispered into the woman’s hair. “The last time I saw you, I barely came up to your shoulder.”

“That’s how it works, Little Miss.” The woman pulled away and cupped Hecate’s cheeks with both hands. “So much like your mother.”

“Miss Luna Lacewing, our family’s cook,” Hecate explained. “She’s been with the Hardbrooms since before I was born. Her mother before that.” She smiled shyly at her. “This is Miss Ada Cackle. My friend.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet someone who cared for Hecate when she was younger.” Ada bowed deeply, hand on her forehead. “Well met, Miss Lacewing, well met, indeed.”

Alma entered the room and handed the box to Hecate. “She’s brought you some of your things.”

“I collected what I could over the years – things I thought you might want.” A clock chimed, causing Miss Luna to jump. “I’d best be going. I don’t want him to find I’ve gone.”

“No. It’s better that he doesn’t know.” Hecate hugged the woman again. “Feel free to visit any time.”

“If you’re ever interested,” Alma said, “I can always do with another kitchen witch. You have options.”

“Thank you, Headmistress, for the offer. But the Lacewings have always served the Hardbrooms.”

“Our loss then, but you let me know if you ever change your mind.” Alma hooked an arm through Miss Luna’s. “I’ll walk you out. I’ll see to your rounds tonight, Ada. And Hecate? I don’t expect you’ll hear from your father any time soon.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cackle.” Hecate closed the door behind them before sagging against it. “I know I was ready to resign a few weeks ago, but…I don’t know what I would have done if Father made me leave.”

“Well, now you won’t have to find out, will you?” Ada pointed to the box. “Would you like to see what’s in the box? Or would you rather go through it in private?”

“I think, Miss Cackle…I think I’d rather have the company.” She picked up the box and took it to the settee, waiting for Ada to join her before she removed the lid. “I’m nervous.” Taking a deep breath, Hecate pulled the lid off the box. A pink and black zebra stared up at her. Clapping a hand over her mouth, Hecate lifted it out of the box and cradled it to her chest. “This is Zelda,” she said, her voice tight. “She was a gift from…my friend…from school.”

“The one you’ve lost touch with? That’s wonderful you have Zelda, then. And it’s Ada.”

Hecate tucked the toy in between Ada and herself before delving into the box again. Next came a stack of children’s books, bundled together with a ribbon. “Paddington Bear. My mother used to read these to me when I was little. Every night we’d read a different one; and once we’d read them all, we’d start back at the beginning. Father hated them because they were Ordinary…but they were magical to me.” She traced a fingertip along the book’s title. “After she died, I would still read them – to remember. Father caught me and…well, they were gone the next day. I thought he’d burned them or vanished them.” She swiped the heel of her hand across her eyes, scrubbing the pending tears away before setting the books aside.

The last thing Hecate pulled from the box was a photo album. “I’ve never seen this before,” she whispered. Opening the cover, she came face to face with her mother. “She’s…she’s different than I remember. I guess I’d forgotten.”

“She’s beautiful. I can see the resemblance.” And she could, too, Ada thought. Hecate and her mother shared the same dark hair and liquid brown eyes. Hecate had her mother’s nose. But where Hecate’s face had her father’s lines and angles, her mother’s face was rounder, fuller, like it was meant for gardens and chanting rather than potions and books. “What was her name?”

“Asteria.” Hecate flipped through the pages like they might suddenly be snatched away before she could see them all. She was almost finished when a full-page photo wrung a gasp from her lips. It was the three of them – Hecate, her mother and her father. They were all smiling. Hecate looked to be about three. “I don’t remember this.” She glanced at Ada. “I don’t remember ever seeing my father smile.” She slammed the book closed and pushed it away. “It’s not fair. Why couldn’t they stay happy? Why did she have to die?” The tears came now. Ada rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“I don’t know, dear. It wasn’t fair at all.”

“I’m sorry,” Hecate said, pulling herself together. She rubbed her hands across her face and filled her lungs with air, holding for a count of eight before slowly releasing it. “It’s late. I know you must be tired. I’m fine.”

“Of course, you are,” Ada remained seated on the sofa. “It’s been quite the evening, I think. Emotional. I wonder if you might like to read a bit before going to sleep?” Ada smiled. Hecate had taken to saying she’d like to read whenever she’d had a particularly trying day and feared she’d be visited by one of her night terrors. Ada always came on those days.

“I…I’d like that. Very much.”

“Splendid.” She waited while Hecate magicked herself ready for bed and crawled under the covers. Ada started to summon one of the armchairs to its customary place by the bed but changed her mind. Instead, she simply walked around to the other side of the bed and settled herself against the headboard. “I thought we’d do things a little differently tonight.” She summoned the stack of Paddington books and plucked out the first one. “How about we read one of these, in honor of your mother?”

Hecate rolled over, closing the distance between them so she could see the illustrations before snuggling into her blankets. “That would be lovely…Ada.”

 


End file.
